Yesterday I spent my day biking and walking around Prenzlauer Berg, hitting up boutiques and scoffing at the 25 Euro printed tees. Found a couple of interesting places, and noteworthy things where I was constantly telling myself "Two months. Can this fit in your suitcase?" Stopped and got a delicious quiche from a great place with trees covering the patio, people playing cards and a son and daughter sitting at my table drinking root beer together. I walked a lot with my headphones on, the artist of the day was Daft Punk which oddly fit. Looked around and was a little saddened that I am only here for two more months. Berlin is really a vibrant and beautiful city, sometimes it doesn't seem like that at first - but if you stop and use time to take it all in it really becomes something extraordinary. Not just the area of Prenzlauer Berg, but the many other areas as well are just as enjoyable to be in. Compared to when I was first here about five years ago, I am amazed at how much has changed in that time. The next two months will hopefully be spent just as this day was, and I will have plenty of memories stored up for my return.
That night headed out to Friedrichshain and had another attempt at the "obscure clubbing in obscure places" that pretty much defines any night event here. We stopped at one of our favorite small bars next to 103 and Watergate by Warschauer Strasse and the headed to the venue.
Inbetween getting off the S-Bahn and getting to the bar, we walk across our favorite bridge and I see some brightly colored jogging suits and fanny packs heading our way. Naturally, I assume they are hipsters, but there are A LOT of them. All in all it was seven English guys partaking in some sick sort of Flashdance re-creation posing as a stag party. They were very drunk, and unconscious of the meaning of personal space. I wanted a picture with all seven of them very badly, but also wanted the guy in the hot pink FILA track suit to stop breathing on me. They were desperate for some place to go and explained they couldn't get in anywhere. (Gee, I wonder why, I really thought Germans were a fan of packs of brightly colored English people, especially bachelor parties. How strange.) It was pretty much agreed upon that they wouldn't get in anywhere in Berlin looking like that, and such a large group - so I asked if they liked 16 year olds to which they gladly cheered "Of course we do luv'!" and I pointed them in the direction of Matrix, a pre-teen and teenage dance club underneath the S-Bahn. God speed.
We headed on and finally made it to our destination, a great warehouse right on the river, really dark but still manageable to see the brick pillars, endless halls and stairways. The sad part was the lack of people in such a great space, especially because the music was very danceable and the drink prices were decent. Stayed for about an hour. Due to our alcohol consumption and the feeling for something ridiculous after the disappointing party, we negotiated our way for free into Matrix Club around 4 a.m. (Assuming the British guys were passed out...somewhere). I felt it was a culturally important step on my part to expose Xiaochang to the "18 and under" side of Berlin. Upon entering, I kept thinking "Girl, where is your mother? Does she know that boy is five years old than you and touching your butt like that?!"
The icing on the cake was the cage in the middle of the dancefloor, and the cherry was the overweight Turkish teenage boy griding the bars...alone.
The last time I remember being there, I was about 20 and getting ready to pass out in a corner. We stayed for about 15 minutes. Ah, youth.
Inbetween getting off the S-Bahn and getting to the bar, we walk across our favorite bridge and I see some brightly colored jogging suits and fanny packs heading our way. Naturally, I assume they are hipsters, but there are A LOT of them. All in all it was seven English guys partaking in some sick sort of Flashdance re-creation posing as a stag party. They were very drunk, and unconscious of the meaning of personal space. I wanted a picture with all seven of them very badly, but also wanted the guy in the hot pink FILA track suit to stop breathing on me. They were desperate for some place to go and explained they couldn't get in anywhere. (Gee, I wonder why, I really thought Germans were a fan of packs of brightly colored English people, especially bachelor parties. How strange.) It was pretty much agreed upon that they wouldn't get in anywhere in Berlin looking like that, and such a large group - so I asked if they liked 16 year olds to which they gladly cheered "Of course we do luv'!" and I pointed them in the direction of Matrix, a pre-teen and teenage dance club underneath the S-Bahn. God speed.
We headed on and finally made it to our destination, a great warehouse right on the river, really dark but still manageable to see the brick pillars, endless halls and stairways. The sad part was the lack of people in such a great space, especially because the music was very danceable and the drink prices were decent. Stayed for about an hour. Due to our alcohol consumption and the feeling for something ridiculous after the disappointing party, we negotiated our way for free into Matrix Club around 4 a.m. (Assuming the British guys were passed out...somewhere). I felt it was a culturally important step on my part to expose Xiaochang to the "18 and under" side of Berlin. Upon entering, I kept thinking "Girl, where is your mother? Does she know that boy is five years old than you and touching your butt like that?!"
The icing on the cake was the cage in the middle of the dancefloor, and the cherry was the overweight Turkish teenage boy griding the bars...alone.
The last time I remember being there, I was about 20 and getting ready to pass out in a corner. We stayed for about 15 minutes. Ah, youth.
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